Los Order
by Ariel Rivka
Summary: What happens when The Order from Silent Hill 3 and Los Illuminados form Resident Evil 4 join forces? I don't write a whole lot of humor, be wary.


The sun was shining, and birds were singing cheerily in the trees. Out story starts on the name of some street you've never heard of. A large, gray building stretched on the side of the road, the sign on the front that said **Convention Center** had seen some better days. _Cough cough_ fifties _cough cough._ Road kill decorated the otherwise nondescript lawn.

Claudia Wolf, current head leader of the religious cult known as The Order, stepped forward onto the pavement. Claudia was tall with an oval shaped face framed with long, straight, greasy blonde hair that hung on her traditional outfit, a long, black dress with a long sleeved black jacket that ended down her ribcage. Her face was peculiar, probably because of the absent of her eyebrows that should have hovered above her slender, grey eyes. Claudia inhaled the city air, surveying her whereabouts. 

The cult woman stepped forward toward the building, her bare feet scraping softly against the pavement, and joined the other people hurrying to get inside.

Inside, the room was large, spacious. A sign hung above the entrance, featuring a badly drawn poster. **Welcome one and all to the first annual Evil Corporations and Cults recruiting convention. **Below it read in smaller print **Sponsored by UMBRELLA Inc, remember, if it's not UMBRELLA, than its something else! **The smile next to it was meant to look nice, but it resembled more of a horrible deranged cat, with jam dripped on it…

Claudia walked over to the front table where a chubby faced man was passing out name tags. "Remember," He told everyone with a smile. "If it's not UMBRELLA, than its something else!"

Claudia moved forward in line, crossing her arms and looking down at the boy before her. "Could you please tell me where I may find the The Order table?"

The boy squinted at her. "The the Order? What!"

Claudia shifted her eyes. "No, _The_ Order."

"Okay, so, the _The_ Order." He typed in some words on his Mac computer. "There's no the _The _Order."

Claudia scowled, clenching her white palms. "No, fool, it's called The Order. Just one the."

The boy blinked at her blankly. "Where did the other one go?"

Claudia shut her eyes, sighing impatiently. "It was never there. The cult is called, The Order. Just one the, only one. The cult that will bring paradise to the world, where all sins shall be forgiven!" When Claudia opened her eyes again, she was standing on the table in a very dramatic pose, the boy clapping.

"Wow," He commented. "You sure are good at Shakespeare!"

Claudia got down, giving the boy an incredulous stare. "Could you please just tell me where to go?"

"Oh, right." He typed in some words rapidly on the computer. "Uhh…what was it called again?"

"Dear g-d!" 

The boy paused, suddenly unsure of him, looking up at Claudia. But my names not-"

"Oh!" Claudia looked up, her eyes sweeping the crowd until she caught sight of another individual walking in. Vincent. For the first time, Claudia was glad to see him. 

"Claudia," The man greeted her coldly. Vincent was tall like Claudia, with longish brown hair brushed neatly. He wore a nice vest over a white button up shirt. Cult leaders never really changed their clothes much.

"Vincent," Claudia said, pointing a long, white finger at the boy. "This sinner refuses to give me the designated the table number, insisting The Order does not exist, _plus_ he quite purposely mocks g-d's will and will be going to hell!" Claudia looked quite pleased with herself. The boy, on the other hand, was a lump of trembling flesh who looked devastated. "Wha-what'd you have to say that for?"

Vincent had his arms crossed. "Nice going, smartass."

Claudia merely shifted her eyes. "I just want to get to our table."

"And I just want you to shut up."

"Go to hell!"

"Excuse me." A long shadow fell over the quarreling couple. Claudia and Vincent looked nervously. A tall man stood before them, dressed entirely in black and wearing a pair of sunglasses. "Is there a problem?"

Claudia instantly pointed a finger at the boy. "He's mocked g-d."

"Yes…?" The man sounded like he couldn't have cared less.

"And…he won't tell us our table number."

"Oh," The man looked at the employee who cringed at his glare. "Tony, get your fat ass up and go on break." He commanded. "Yes Captain Wesker." The bumbling buffoon answered, trudging away slowly.

"I'm Albert Wesker." The man told them. "Head of UMBRELLA. What is your table representing, please?"

"The Order."

The man typed in a few words, info coming up a second later. "Ah, yes. Table number thirty four, next to the Red Crayon Aristocrats."

"Thank…you." Claudia grabbed a hold if Vincent, and began to drag him away.

The couple walked a few moments, trying to get through the tangled mob of evil corporations and cult members wannabees. "Wow," Vincent commented, sounding surprised. "With this crowd, we should have no trouble getting more people to join."

"Vincent, did I ever tell you were going to hell?"

"Yes, many a times. Why?"

"Because I dreamt last night that you went to Purgatory instead."

Within a few minutes, Claudia finally found table number thirty four. The Mark of Samael hung behind the table. Behind the table stood Dahlia Gillespie, Walter Sullivan, Leonard Wolf, and Andrew de Salvo. Claudia felt a knot of pride grow in her chest. It warmed her to see their religion like this. 

"Brother's, sisters." She greeted with an enigmatic smile. 

"Claudia." Dahlia Gillespie pecked her on the cheek, her heavily made eyes brought out the startling, if not scary, color of her eyes. Her wrinkled, old face was beaming with pride. "And Vincent." She moved over to Vincent to give him a kiss. "What the-get off me woman!"

Claudia gazed around at the group. "Isn't Pyramid head coming?" she asked, a bit dismayed. "There was a sinner in the front who mocked g-d, he needed to be punished."

"He's around here somewhere, dear." The woman said after finally given Vincent a peck on the cheek (and a small one on the mouth.). Vincent on the floor, coughing. "Michael is around here too, probably selling more drugs."

"Oh," Claudia nodded slowly, smiling at the group. "Walter," She beamed at the man who sat on the table, his wavy blond hair hanging loosely to his shoulders. "How have you've been? Have you finished the 21 sacraments yet?" 

"Nah," The murderer replied. "The damn 20th and 21st sacraments got away! I was hoping to find some more here." A group of teens walked by, Walter gazed at them warily. 

Claudia took a seat in the chair and adjusted her name tag, eager to see who would be their first recruit. A minute passed, than three, than half an hour. Claudia kept on smiling. Walter had fallen asleep on top the table, and Andrew de Salvo looked a bit bored. Leonard was still glaring into the crowd.

"Uh, Claudia," Vincent tugged at Claudia's sleeve.

"What is it now, Vincent?"

"You know how when we were little and you always told me that if I was a bad boy and didn't clean out the confession room and dust Alessa's butterfly's collection that the Red Devil would come and take me away?"

"So?"

"Well…uh…he's here." Vincent cowered behind Claudia, grasping her legs. "Hide me, woman!"

"Vincent!" Claudia slapped him on the back of the head. "Let me go, and go to hell while you're at it!" 

"But-"

"No!"

"But-"

"Claudia-"

"NO!"

"But…" He peeked up at her, whining. "He's right over there!"

"Dude," Walter frowned. "Pyramid Head _is_ the Red Devil…and he's over there hitting on a Hooter's mannequin." 

Vincent poked his head out from behind Claudia. "Hooters?"

Claudia slapped him again.

"Ow!"

"Shut up, Vincent!"

"But look." Vincent rubbed his head and pointed to across the room. "Then who's that guy?"

'That guy', in turn, was looking back at them. He was very, very tall, about eight feet, wearing a long trench coat and brown beard stylishly long. Next to him was another man, nearly his height, in a brilliant, purple cloak. Another man stood beside them, this one big and overly muscled with a scarred face. A brown haired man wearing a vest stood away form the group, looking a bit unhappy to have been there. A much shorter man who looked to be the oldest was sitting with their gray hair pulled back.

"See?" Vincent whined, standing up.

"Vincent," Leonard Wolf gave him an odd look. "How in g-d's holy name does he resemble the red devil?"

"Father!" Claudia gasped. "You mock g-d?"

"Shut up, stupid girl. Well Vincent?"

"He's got spear." Vincent said pointedly. "That's all the proof of insurance I need."

Walter Sullivan frowned. "I think that's his beard."

Vincent swallowed, glancing back at him. "Oh. Really? Damn, that's a sharp beard."

"Hey guys," Pyramid Head walked up at that moment, pulling his great knife in one hand and a girl in another. "Meet Ashley Graham. She's the President's daughter."

"Hi, Ashley." The cult said simultaneously.

The blonde girl gave a drunken giggle, swaying slightly. "Oh Leon," She gushed at Pyramid Head. "Your friend's are sooo cute."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Leon?"

Pyramid Head shrugged. "I told her that's not my name, but she can't remember. Besides, she said she'll only sleep with me if I say my names Leon." He gave Ashley's shoulder a squeeze. "Right, honey?"

Ashley was currently about to topple over, a slightly dazed look on her face. "Where am I again?"

"Ashley," Dahlia smiled sweetly at the girl, which looked quite scary. "How about joining our cult? It comes with a doctor's insurance plan."

Kaufman proudly pointed his thumb at himself. "I can get you that, because I'm a doctor."

"Okay," Ashley swayed unsteadily, accepting the paperwork that Leonard was handing her. Vincent took the golden opportunity.

"It comes with a two hundred dollar fee," He said, holding out his palm.

"Shut up, Vincent!"

"Two hundred dollars?" The president's daughter's hand hovered hesitantly over her purse. "My daddy always told me never to give money to an unknown organization on the off hand that they use the money dishonestly and it brings them one step closer to their ultimate goal which might be the birth of a g-d of some sort that is cruel and brings the world nothing but everlasting pain and suffering." Everyone stared at her in shock. Claudia bolted up from her seat. "FYI, g-d is kind and will bring us everlasting joy and-" Vincent moved his hand over Claudia's mouth instantly, giving Ashley a nervous smile. "Hehe, cult leader's you know?" He became very serious, pushing his eye glasses up his nose and sitting straighter like a scholar. "Ashley, if we were some sort of unknown organization, than why do _we_ know about it?"

Claudia shifted her eyes, unable to talk.

"Furthermore," Vincent continued. "If this 'g-d' you speak of is going to bring us eternal pain and suffering, why would we be birthing it?"

"Oh," Ashley swayed a bit more. "Okay." The girl reached into her purse and pulled out two hundred big ones, giving them to the eager Vincent.

"Congratulations, Ashley," Dahlia grinned. "Welcome to The Order!"

"As a thank you for joining us," Kaufman said. "We would like to present you with this complimentary bag." He held out a bag full of White Claudia. Ashley was about to accept it, but Pyramid Head roughly drove her away. "We'll pass." He gave Kaufman a dirty look from beneath his helmet. "See you guys later."

Everyone smiled, having recruited their first person. Vincent was rubbing the money against his face lovingly. "Heh," He snickered. "I love blondes."

"Vincent!" Claudia hissed, jerking his face away to look up at her. "How many times have I told you not to pick money off people?"

"None!" Vincent snapped, jerking away. "You just said I couldn't pick money off the _Church."_

Walter snickered, Claudia merely shifted her eyes for the zillionth time in the past five minutes.

Dahlia was staring thoughtfully across the aisle at the odd bunch standing at the Los Illuminados sign. "Does anyone think that the short one is kinda cute?"

_Los Illuminados._

"Ramom!" Osmund Saddler snapped at the shorter man. "How many times have I asked you not to sing out loud?"

Ramon Salazar unplugged the headphones form his ears, gazing up at Saddler. "But I'm so bored!" He cried out. "No one has come by yet to be recruited into our religion."

Saddler scowled. "I'm perfectly aware of that, Ramon."

"I told you we should have gotten some Hooter mannequins to stand in front of the table." Jack Krauser, the only blonde there, muttered. "At least people would have _looked_ at us."

"Maybe we should go home." Ramon spoke up, listening to his I-pod some more.

Saddler didn't like to admit it, but he had a feeling this was about as busy as they were going to get. The cult leader scowled, his lined face coming down in a harsh frown. But he did not want to admit defeat either. The Los Illuminados were strong, stronger than any other cult, he was confident. If only someone would stop by their g-damn table.

"I hate my job." He muttered, happening to look up. "Where did Sera go?"

Salazar pointed to a table a few tables while bopping his head to his tunes. Sera was among the group admiring the Hooters Mannequins. Saddler sat up straighter. "Sera!" He growled angrily, standing. Luis Sera caught the hint and hurried back to the table, looking guilty. "I was just looking for the bathroom."

"Bullshit." The cult leader announced. "Sit!"

Luis sat.

"If we don't get one recruiter soon, I'm going to inject myself with my own needle, and there's just going to be air in it!" In all truth, Luis did not want to anyone to come and was secretly glad that no one was coming. He must have been doing a pretty good performance, as Saddler made no comment to the suicide threat.

"I just don't get it," He was saying. "What do they have that we don't?"

"Boobs…?" Bitores Mendes suggested.

"No, no, no." Saddler muttered. 

"Lord Saddler, I want to go home."

Saddler sighed. "You've already told me, Ramon."

"No, this time it's different." Ramon pointed a finger across the aisle. "That woman's been staring at me for, like, ten minutes now."

"Maybe their interested in recruiting into our religion." Krauser suggested.

Saddler read the banner above their table from across the aisle. "The Order," He muttered. "Never heard of it."

"Another cult?" Luis's brow furrowed. "Ay yie yie, there's too many evil cults in the world."

"What do you think they want?" Mendez asked them, as they were still staring at them. Since they had nothing better to do, the group stared back. A person came to their table, dressed in violet folds that covered most of their face, spoke to them, and left, at least one more customer than Saddler's group had gotten.

"They must be some sort of geniuses." Saddler murmured.

_The Order._

A man approached the table, and The Order broke eye contact with the people across the way. He was dressed like a peddler, carrying a big backpack on his back. He stared at the merchandise. Holy candles, holy medallions, aglaophotis, magnets with the images of St. Jennifer and Alessa, Silent Hill postcards, T-shirts with the Halo of the Sun Image, and a Silent Hill for the ps2 game. Vincent sat up a bit straighter when he saw someone was interested in buying. "Hello, stranger" He greeted them in a friendly manner. "What're you buyin'?"

"What're you sellin'? The merchant asked, eyeing the merchandise. Vincent gestured everything on the table. The merchant examined a medallion meant to keep bad spirits away, and bit on it to see if it was real. Satisfied that he was, he said: "Ah, I'll buy it at a high price!"

"That'll be fifty dollars." The money was exchanged. Vincent laughed maliciously, as though enjoying a joke with himself and pocketed the money. "Come back anytime."

_**Will the Los Illuminados get a new recruit? Will Walter find the last two sacraments? Will Vincent go to hell? How will these two cults join forces?**_

_**A.N.-I could not fall asleep at all last night, so I wrote this, hence the oddness. Let me know what you think, I need to sleep now.**_


End file.
